Chapter 30 #2
I expect Alaric to roll his eyes at my theatrics and dismiss the accusations outright.
Or pick apart my story and tell me it was somehow my fault—I must have enticed Von Nevus and invited his advances.
I wait for him to tell me I should be flattered men can’t control themselves in my presence.
Or at the very least, to tell me there’s nothing to be done because of Von Nevus’s position.
But Alaric Alaverdi says none of these things.
His eyes go hard as flint, and he mutters words like pig and castrate as he paces the sitting room for five solid minutes. Finally, he stops in front of me and crouches low, so we’re face-to-face—like we were during our wedding ceremony on the Tomb Flats.
Somehow, this is even more intimate.
“I’m sorry you were assaulted in my home. I would never condone such behavior. Did he harm you? Do you need a healer?”
I give my head a small shake. “I defended myself.”
Alaric’s mouth curves into the smallest of smirks. “Of course you did.”
“Is it that hard to believe?” I demand. “Or will I always be the girl who shrank in silence when you and your father took Rowenna? The girl who crumpled across her coffin like a wet rag when you returned her body?”
“No!” Alaric says with surprising alarm.
“That’s not how I see you at all. You’re the girl who made a bomb to save your storehouse.
The girl who’s been searching and scheming since the moment you arrived at the Fortress.
The girl who followed me up the mountain and learned my darkest secrets, but instead of blackmailing me, you’ve treated me with kindness and compassion. You are a force to be reckoned with.”
I don’t know if it’s the declaration itself, how he says it, or the way he’s looking at me, but my insides suddenly feel as light and floating as a dandelion seed.
Really? Rowenna cuts in, and I nearly fall out of my chair. I expected her to punish me with silence after I willfully ignored her earlier. But she’s here—her voice small and scratchy, yet unmistakable.
I had to say something, she continues. I’ve been giving you these same compliments, but I suppose it means more coming from a handsome, brooding prince.
“You don’t need to say anything more about your encounter with Von Nevus if it’s too difficult,” Alaric says, mistaking my silence for pain.
“Thank you for trusting me with this. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been to see him again.
Most people in this palace would have chosen to purge the ordeal immediately. ”
I stubbornly shake my head. “Forgetting would let him off the hook and give him the opportunity to prey on me again. I don’t regret my memory of the incident.
I regret that I froze in his presence just now.
I had a chance to confront him, but I quite literally choked on the words.
I hate that I let him have that kind of power over me—especially when there are other girls who have suffered far worse at his hands. ”
“There are others?” Alaric’s fists tighten, and I swear a shudder passes through the gemstone walls. My breath catches as I glance up, searching for fractures. Alaric’s eyes dart upward too, and he immediately shakes out his hands.
“If it were up to me, I’d strip Von Nevus of his title and cast him into the icy wilderness beyond the Fortress—condemn him to a long cold death.
But, since he technically serves my father, I can’t.
I can, however, ensure you’re never made to suffer his presence again.
I won’t let him come within five paces of you,” he promises.
The relief of being believed and supported is so overwhelming, I nearly burst into tears again. But Alaric has already seen too much of my soft underbelly today, so I hide behind a shield of humor instead.
“That’s a very noble offer,” I say, “but in order to ensure Councilor Von Nevus doesn’t come within five paces of me, it will require you to always be within five paces of me. Are you sure you’ll survive that?”
Alaric scrunches his face dramatically, but when he clears his throat, his expression turns solemn. “It seems a fitting punishment, actually, for allowing someone so vile to hold a position of power. It would be my honor to escort you anytime.”
“Anywhere?” I shamelessly press. “Because you still owe me a trip to your mines, to witness your power in exchange for showing you my gardening magic—twice now.”
I am suddenly, deliriously happy Alaric refused to take me to a jobsite the first time I asked. Back then, I would have only thought to look for hidden stores of bagrava or ways to exploit their mining operations. Now I know to look for so much more.
Like stones of blood, flesh, and bone.
Perhaps other magical deposits were formed the day Callahan obtained his power, and Soren and Alaric have been steering the miners away from these caches, to ensure they alone have access?
Or they could have hidden the original gemstone triad in an old, abandoned mineshaft for safekeeping, where no one ever has cause to visit.
It would be so brilliant to keep the key to moving the earth within the earth itself.
Hidden in plain sight. Much safer than royal coffers that could be infiltrated by a curious young prince or vengeful captive bride.
Alaric shifts uneasily, pinning me in place with his storm-cloud eyes. A few short weeks ago, I would have accused him of trying to manipulate me with that roguish stare. But now I see the dazzling flecks of silver for what they really are—a mask to hide his doubt and uncertainty.
“Unless there’s a reason you don’t want me to see your mines or your magic?” I goad.
Alaric closes his eyes and sighs loudly. “Fine. I’ll take you to visit one of the mines. Be ready to go before dawn tomorrow. We need to be finished before the miners arrive for the day.”
With that, he stands and heads for the door.
I surprise myself by calling out, “Thank you—for believing me about Von Nevus. And for coming to your mother’s salon. I didn’t realize how much I was asking when I begged you to escort me. It can’t be easy, seeing her like that.”
Alaric shrugs stiffly. “She’s been that way for so long, I should be used to it. Besnik’s death broke her—just like my father said it would. I lost all of them that day.”
Scenes from his golden memory bombard me, and it’s all so tragic, so unfair, and so achingly familiar.
“That’s how it happened for me too,” I blurt. “You might as well have taken my parents the day you took Rowenna, because they’ve never recovered. It’s like the best parts of them only existed in my sister. Like they had nothing left to live for when they were left with only me.”
The way Alaric is appraising me makes my stomach flip. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, heart hammering, feet tingling, but instead of fearing the drop, my body buzzes with the inexplicable urge to jump.
Look away! Rowenna commands from the depths of my consciousness.
But I don’t look away.
Neither does Alaric.
His lips slowly bend into a smile that isn’t smug or smoldering. It’s timid and raw and, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.